


For a Treat

by mokuyoubi



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 19:37:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mokuyoubi/pseuds/mokuyoubi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Response to reni_days' request: Brendon wants to stay home and pass out candy to adorable children dressed as fairies and rock stars on Halloween?</p>
            </blockquote>





	For a Treat

Spencer was all about Halloween, don’t get him wrong. Ryan had used to give him shit about it, once they’d reached their teens, saying they were too old and too cool for Halloween, but Spencer was of the opinion that one could never be too old for Halloween. As for being too cool, Spencer wasn’t sure what was uncool about lots of new horror flicks, hot chicks in slutty costumes, and tons of candy.

Brendon took Halloween very seriously, though. As soon as October first hit, he was dragging out the decorations and making Spencer go to all the stores to buy new. There were window clings and fake spider webs, white candles that melted red, orange twinkle lights in the shrubbery and bats hung from the trees, all sorts of motion activated trinkets scattered inside and out, a fog machine pouring over the lawn, which had been dressed up as a graveyard, complete with crumbling headstones and rotting body parts clawing our of the ground. 

Those were just the house decorations. Besides those, Brendon was constantly bringing home various sweets, from variety bags of the good candy to pumpkin cupcakes to festive sugar cookies and all kinds of weird seasonal flavours that they would sample together, beer on hand to wash away the taste of the truly hideous ones. 

It was the costumes, though, that were Brendon’s favourite part of the season. The back of his closet had all his previous years’ costumes, and he usually started planning for the next year as soon as November first rolled around. He often decided on ten or twelve, and would regularly dress up throughout the month, even just to go out to the grocery store because, he said, it was the whole point. 

When not on tour, the week leading up to Halloween was filled with parties. So far this year they’d been to parties of Shane, Eric and Mark, but everyone was excited for Dawn’s. Her parties were always the craziest, with scavenger hunts that occasionally warranted police involvement and various party games that tended to get pretty risqué, not to mention she always managed to find these genuinely creepy indie films and played them in her darkened basement. 

This year, she was having her fête on Thursday, which wasn’t generally a problem for the crowd they hung out with, but happened to coincide with trick-or-treat night. Brendon, once he’d heard, had gotten pretty disappointed. 

“The kids, Spence,” he’d said. “Think of the kids. They’ve put so much time and effort into their costumes and they’re so excited for the one night they get to run around like crazy and they’re not only allowed to beg for candy but _encouraged_ to do so, and they come up our driveway all happy and eager only to have their spirits crushed when they ring the doorbell of this awesomely decorated house only to find there’s _no one home_.” 

He had his big puppy eyes on, which meant he was sincere about this, and not just being a tool. Spencer sighed, because the puppy eyes were pretty impressive, and he was not exactly immune to them. 

“We’ll get some really awesome candy—the good stuff, big bars, and we’ll leave it on the porch for them,” Spencer said. 

Brendon gave him a you’re-so-stupid look. “Spencer, that never actually works. The first kid that comes along just takes the whole thing.” 

“Well, maybe the first kid who comes along will be with their parent,” Spencer said reasonably. 

“Then the second kid, or whatever. The point is, it isn’t fair! And where’s the fun in taking candy from a bowl?” And now he was pouting. Setting aside what Spencer would like to do with that mouth, because it was best not to dwell on such things, the pout was even more effective than the eyes. And the two of them combined? 

“It’s Dawn’s party!” Spencer said. “She’ll never let us hear the end of it if we skip to pass out candy.” 

“Spencer, think of the children!” Brendon argued, and then started humming some Whitney Houston song under his breath. 

“This is ridiculous,” Spencer said in awe, more to himself than anything, and wandered out of the room and away from the argument. 

* 

Because the argument had been so ridiculous, Spencer didn’t give it much more thought. Brendon didn’t bring it up later when Spencer came back to the living room to watch TV, so he figured whatever kid-loving, trick-or-treat fanatical bug had crawled up his ass had died. 

Spencer got dressed Thursday afternoon—Dawn’s parties started earlier if you wanted in on the scavenger hunt action, which you did—in his new space cowboy costume. It required little work, but he thought it made him look pretty badass, and Brendon was a fan. 

When he came downstairs, he found Brendon was dressed in his own authentic Disney’s Aladdin costume, down to his tiny purple fez, though perhaps with more upper body muscle definition. Spencer made himself look away. 

“Ready to go?” Spencer asked, twirling the car keys on his thumb. It was almost six. The early-birds would be ringing the bell soon, and he wanted to get away clean. 

Brendon glared at him. “I’m not going,” he said. “This is my passing out candy costume.” He tugged at his open vest in a dignified sort of way. 

“Brendon,” Spencer said, and cocked his hips. Brendon’s gaze followed the movement before snapping back to Spencer’s face. “You’re being ridiculous.” 

“Well, your face is being ridiculous,” Brendon said, with the beginnings of a pout. “I didn’t say you had to stay. I’ll pass out candy all by myself, which will be tons of fun, and not at all boring, and afterwards I’ll watch _The House on Haunted Hill_ all by myself, which will not be scary at all.” 

Spencer tried not to smile, but it was difficult, facing this. “You can’t even get through the opening credits without getting freaked out,” he said. 

“They’re really creepy!” Brendon exclaimed. “I mean. Not scary at all.” He crossed his arms, pose reminiscent of the character he was dressed as. 

“It’s Dawn’s party, Brendon,” Spencer said, whining a little, bouncing in place. 

The doorbell rang and Brendon grabbed his bowl of king sized candy bars from the countertop. “No one’s stopping you, Spencer,” Brendon said, and breezed past him. 

Down the hall, Spencer heard the door open and then Brendon was cooing over a fairy, telling her how beautiful she was, and asking her about her favourite flower, and no doubt giving her more candy than he should, so early in the evening. 

Spencer glanced at the hall. Five fifty-six. Apparently the fairy was a part of a group because now a princess was asking Brendon if he had a real magic carpet and Brendon had apparently fallen in love. 

He slammed the keys down on the counter in a huff and went down the hall. Brendon had left the front door open and was sitting on the stairs of the porch, waving goodbye at the group of little girls going back towards the sidewalk. Bogart was half in his lap and Dylan was curled up at his side. He yawned at Spencer like Spencer was the reason for it. 

“Aren’t you gonna be late for your party?” Brendon asked without looking up. He scratched behind Bogart’s ears and the dog grumbled happily. 

“Shut up,” Spencer mumbled. “Move over.” He had to relocate Dylan to claim a place at Brendon’s side, but Dylan just yawned again and went back inside. 

There was a smile tugging at Brendon’s lips and he leaned into Spencer’s side, dropping his head on Spencer’s shoulder. “Dawn’s party,” Spencer repeated, pissy. 

“Kids, Spencer,” Brendon said. “Little fairies and pirates and princesses and rock stars, Spencer. They’re dressing up like _us_.” 

“I’m not sure we have ever been representative of the typical rock star,” Spencer pointed out. 

Brendon waved his hand. He pressed his face into Spencer’s neck and when he spoke, his lips brushed the skin, sending shivers down Spencer’s spine. “You’re skipping Dawn’s party for me, Spencer Smith?” 

“It’s for the kids, Brendon,” Spencer said, and he was still confused about the difference between sincerity and sarcasm. 

Brendon pinched his arm. “You love me,” he said. 

Spencer swallowed hard and managed to sound unaffected when he said, “Yeah, maybe.” 

Another group of kids came up their walkway and Brendon drew back. He had a smile and praise for each of them, and maybe Spencer was just a huge, sappy dork, but what was Dawn’s party compared to happy glow Brendon got talking to the kids. 

After that, the kids came in a pretty continuous stream. Spencer got up to make Brendon some warm cider. They’d bickered over it in the store, Spencer complaining that the weather in Los Angeles never got cold enough to merit warm cider, and Brendon arguing that it was in the spirit of the season. Now, Spencer made himself a cup, too, because the smell reminded him of the holidays in Colorado with his dad’s parents. 

Eventually the crowd dwindled down to a trickle, and then died out altogether. It was definitely lame, but Spencer thought he was probably enjoying himself more now, sitting silently with Brendon as night settled around them, than he would be having at Dawn’s. Brendon was warm pressed up against his side, laying his head on Spencer’s shoulder again. 

“Still have a few bars left,” Brendon said, shaking the bowl. “Trick or treat?” 

Spencer snorted. “Who ever picks trick, seriously?” he asked. 

Brendon shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it used to be you did a trick, you got a treat.” 

“Ah,” Spencer said, “so what sort of trick do I have to do to get one of your treats?” There was a teasing leer in his voice and he was surprised when Brendon lifted his head, their faces close together. 

“Kidding,” he started to say, but didn’t finish before Brendon pressed his lips to Spencer’s in a quick kiss. 

Brendon drew back and placed one of the candy bars in Spencer’s lap. All he could do for a moment was stare at it in mingled confusion and disbelief. “I don’t think that kissing counts as a trick,” he finally said. 

“Well then,” Brendon said. He looked into the bowl. “I’ve got four more left. Guess you’ll have to figure out something else to impress me.” He got up and Bogart stirred, following him back inside. 

Spencer sat frozen to the spot, watching him. His lips were sort of tingling, which was ridiculous, and his mind was racing, trying to figure out if Brendon was joking or not. 

“Coming?” Brendon asked over his shoulder. There was a heavy look in his eyes and a hint of a teasing smile at his lips. 

Spencer scrambled to his feet, hurrying through the front door. Brendon shut it quick behind him, turning the lock. He looked up at Spencer through his lashes, back to the door, holding four candy bars up between them. “So,” he said. “Trick for a treat?”


End file.
